Brave In The Morning
by XSoleadoX
Summary: Follow-up to the "Slow Night, Loud Thunder". Rumple comes to the wrong conclusions about the previous night, and Belle takes a brave step, confessing her feelings. Action takes place in the morning just after the events in the "Slow Night, Loud Thunder". One-shot.


**Just a little follow-up. The previous part, "Slow Night, Loud Thunder", you will find on my profile.**

**Have a nice reading. :)**

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When he opened his eyes, it seemed like waking up from the most wonderful dream. Only, it was not a dream. There was Belle's intoxicating scent floating in the air around him, the clear sign that last night was real. He smiled to himself at the memory.

How she willingly came into his arms… Came to look for a comfort… in his arms… He needed to repeat these words few times, to comprehend. Of course, there was no one else in the castle, so he was the only option she had, to seek reassurance. But then… Then she kissed him.

His fingers traveled to his lips, without his volition. He could still feel the press of her lips, her tongue sliding against his… And oh, what happened after they kissed... He behaved like in a haze, then. Didn't really think this through, he just let her take the lead and he followed. Why shouldn't he?

When he looked at the side, where she should be laying, he knew why. The bed was empty.  
>His mind shot into alarm immediately, and a muffled curse escaped him. Of course she wasn't here. Of course she left before he woke. Yesterday she came to him scared, and what he did? Just took the advantage. Maybe she didn't even fully realize what was she doing, her body powered by adrenaline... And now, in the morning, when her mind cleared, she realized what huge mistake she'd made and she got the hell out of here, not able to stand his presence.<br>What a stupid bastard he was!

With an angry grunt he got out of the bed and by use of magic he put on himself his usual leather clothes, as his self-loathing thoughts raced through his mind.  
>How could he be so naïve? How could he think that someone so pure and wonderful like Belle could have ever want someone like <em>him<em>?

He's been so careful to not do anything wrong around her, to at least win her friendship. He didn't fool himself that he could ever win her heart, and his own heart ached from that knowledge. But now, now he just ruined all the chances. They were already getting pretty good together. There was a thread of understanding between them, a fragile bond of friendship, a seed of something, and now it was all gone. Just because he was so weak and couldn't resist her. He longed for her so long, that rejecting her when she came willingly was just impossible…

And now he will have to pay for it. Belle will never look at him the same. In last few months she got accustomed to the Dark Castle as her new home, and now living in here, with _him_, would become a nightmare for her, and all thanks to him.

He let out few more curses, mostly directed at his pathetic person.  
>He wanted Belle to be happy. He loved her. She didn't love him, but he hoped she could at least like him. Recently he started to believe that she did. The realization that now she will start to hate him, or worse; loathe him, made his heart shrink.<p>

An old fool he was... He took her virginity, something he had no right to do, and with that he destroyed her whole life. Even if he set her free, she would never find a husband, not after her association with him. As a noble lady she was, she would have been completely ruined…

He cursed one more time, anger washing over him, when the darker part of him suddenly pushed its way into the front, trying shift the blame.  
>She came to him from her own will, and so he did nothing wrong, the voice reasoned. He did not force her, and she has her own mind. If she didn't think that going to the bed with a monster was a bad idea, then it was her fault, not his. If she felt so disgusted right now, that she couldn't even stand watching him wake, it was her problem, not his.<p>

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the nasty voice. He wouldn't blame her. _He_ was a monster here, and so only he deserved to be blamed. He had absolutely no right to take the advantage…

But was it really taking an advantage? She did come willingly, after all… She initiated everything they did… She said she's sure, when he asked… And she even said she cares for him…

He needed to stop thinking for a moment, his head already starting to ache. He needed to leave this room.

He waved his hand and the door flung open violently.

And then there was a squeak, a clatter of porcelain hitting the floor, and a bang of metal…  
>With a heart somewhere in his throat, he peeked outside, and immediately he was being struck by the sight. Belle splayed at the floor. The pieces of shattered plates and tea cups everywhere. The pool of tea at the floor. The tray making a tiny pirouette on the brink and then hitting the marble floor with a horrifying thud.<p>

He swallowed hard, as he looked down at Belle. What was the meaning of it? Did she just try to pretend it's a normal day, that nothing had happened? Or did she…

"What were you doing?"

She bit her lip and looked at the side. "I made us a breakfast. I thought we could eat it in bed…" She shot him an accusatory look then, and it made him want to crawl into his skin.  
>"And then you hit me with the door!"<p>

She was angry… He should apologize probably, and… And wait, what?

"Breakfast? Bed?" He repeated dumbly, the ends of his brain not joining again. Was she really saying, what she was saying? Her groan got his attention again, and he only now realized that she had got hurt.

He knelt next to her, trying to keep an impassive face, but when she touched her wrist and winced in pain, his mask slipped away. In the blink of eye he grasped her wrist into his hand, as tentatively as if it was a fragile piece of glass, and he waved his other hand over it. A violet glow illuminated their joined hands for a moment, and there it was gone, as was the pain.

She met his eyes with her own, wide ones. He gulped, when she reached for his face, half expecting her to slap him, but instead she gently ran her fingers across his cheek, and he just couldn't help but lean into her touch.

"Thank you", she whispered, her eyes not leaving his, and a tiny smile stretching at her lips. He gulped again, and forced himself to stand. A glimmer of hope ignited somewhere inside his heart, and he felt his hands shaking slightly, when he helped her up.

Could she really want to have a breakfast with him, in the bed? Or was she just making this up, afraid that she enraged him? No, not his Belle. Except for the first day, she'd never been afraid of him. It's been one of the many things he so much admired about her.

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware that he's been staring at her like a fool. He averted his eyes, and his look fell on the mess at the floor. A prick of guilt squeezed his insides, and with a wave of hand the mess was gone, everything in the original state and back in Belle's petite hands.

There was an awkward silence between them for a few seconds, and just as he mustered the courage to look her in the eye again, she was already walking past him.  
>"I still intend on having that breakfast with you, Rumplestiltskin" she called through her shoulder, while she strolled into his bedroom as if it was her own.<p>

For few more moments he didn't move, a rush of emotions and thoughts overwhelming him, as the hope spurted inside him. He's been wrong, oh so wrong… She hadn't left, at least not from the reason he assumed. She didn't regret what they did. He didn't disgust her. And she didn't hate him. Maybe even she… No. He really had to stop these thoughts. With this new found hope, he was going too optimistic, and he shouldn't.  
>But maybe, just maybe…<p>

"Rumplestiltskin? Are you coming?"

Oh, right, she was waiting, and he's been still standing by the doorway, like an imbecile.  
>After few deep breaths, which ultimately did nothing to slow down his racing heart, he walked in to the room. His eyes immediately were drawn to the bed, where she sat on the pillows, the tray on her lap, and covers under her, exposing her shapely bare legs at his view. She was still in her nightgown, he now noticed. How could he missed that before?<p>

He blinked few times as she patted the place next to her, and with a slow, measured steps he made his way over.  
>Just yesterday morning he thought that only thing he and Belle could ever have is friendship, and that only with the luck that he wouldn't screw something up. And then, twelve hours later, she came to his bedroom and they've been with each other in most intimate way possible, and then they've spent an entire night cuddled together, and now she was laying on his bed with a breakfast...<br>Maybe it was a dream after all?  
>Or did the luck finally smiled to him?<p>

Carefully he perched himself at the edge of bed, but under Belle's disappointed look, he scooted closer, and was immediately rewarded by a bright smile.

He wanted to ask her about everything that was happening since yesterday, and most of all, why? Why she gave herself to him? Did she just want to fulfill her body's needs? Or was there something more into it, a real feelings involved…? Oh, he hoped for the second. He so much hoped…

But he bit himself in the tongue. She wanted to have breakfast, so breakfast they should have. Questions could wait. Especially that he feared the answer, and the one he hoped for, he feared even more.

Barely he noticed the burn on the toast, as it was nothing new. Belle had many advantages, but cooking was not one of them. He almost chuckled to himself, at the memory of their first meal. She cooked it so poorly, that he almost choked when he tried it. But he still put a mask and told her it tasted just fine. And just after he said that, he wondered why he didn't mock her instead? He meant to do it, but his mouth seemed to have its own mind. Only after several weeks, did he understand. When she fell from the ladder, and he instinctively caught her. He hold her in his arms for much longer that was necessary, and when he looked at her, their faces so close… She was looking at him too, her eyes full of warmth, and she smiled, and thanked him… And made no move to get out from his embrace…  
>After that, when he came back to his spinning wheel, only then he noticed how his hands were shaking, how his heart was racing from fear that if he wasn't there, if he hadn't caught her, she could have snapped her neck and die.<br>In that day he finally understood his feelings, understood how much he loved her. Attempts to get rid of the feeling have been in vain, so he finally settled at simply ignoring it, and good lord, if it wasn't physically painful…  
>But now… Now they were here.<p>

He swallowed the terrible tasting toast and drank his tea in one gulp, almost burning his throat with it. One look at her told him that she was finished too, and he waved his hand, the tray disappearing.

He had to know the truth. He already lived for hundreds of years in uncertainty as for the faith of his lost boy, managing to survive day after day just by holding to the hope. He couldn't add another thing to it. He needed a stable ground with at least one, important to his heart, thing.

"Why Belle? Why did you do it? Why did you… spent night with me?" The last words he managed to get out only as a weak whisper, and he had to force himself to keep his eyes on her face, on her eyes. Belle never was a good liar, her open honest face always giving her away, even with the tiniest of lies. So right now, he needed to see her face, her eyes, more than ever.

She sighed and for a second looked away, chewing her lip. Then her eyes returned, her face determined. He scowled. If she didn't tell him the truth, he would know.

He almost jumped when she took his hand into hers, and put it at her chest. Her heart was pounding, no less than his. She had such faith in him, he marveled. After all, he could just push his hand a little, and it would have delve into her chest, her heart at his disposal. He could have crushed it. He would have never done that, not to her, but she had no reason to trust him so much. Why did she then?

He tore his eyes from her chest, and focused at her face. He was tensed as a bowstring when she put her own hand at his chest, surely feeling his rapid heartbeat. Her eyes locked with his, and she took a deep breath, before finally speaking. And boy, he was so not prepared for her words.

"Because I love you, Rumplestiltskin"

If he could have died from asphyxiation or a heart attack, he surely would right now, as both his breath and heart stopped working.  
>For a minute.<br>And next one.

Her shy smile and bright, hopeful eyes were starting to dissolve the more time passed without his reaction, and he forced his body to work again. He took a deep breath, and could feel his heart beating again, his brain racing. The part of him, the one full of darkness and suspicions and fear, was screaming that this was some scheme. A trick. This part of him was telling him to rip out her heart and did just what he did with Milah's. No one who tricks the Dark One deserves to live!

But he wasn't listening to this part. He knew it wasn't right. Belle wasn't Milah, nor was she Cora. Belle was… Belle. His sweet, innocent girl, laughing at his jokes, constantly getting engrossed by a book, the kindness soul he ever met… She would never try to trick him. Anyone else, yes. But not her. And most certainly, not by such a horrid way.

He slid his hand from her chest up to her neck, fingers just lightly resting there, stroking the soft skin. His second hand covered her own, resting at his heart, and he pressed it a little stronger to his body, so she for certain could feel his pounding heart, pounding for and because of her.  
>Leaning a little bit into her, he gazed deeply into her eyes. They were wide and honest, not hiding anything from him. And he could see love in them, a pure adoration, as clear as the tile of crystal water. And oh, this look… No woman has ever looked at him like that, not his wife Milah, not even Cora… Because they just didn't love him.<br>But Belle did. He believed her. Despite the screaming protests of the darker parts of his mind, the ones set for finding his son and not letting anything disturb that, he believed her. This look, this love written at her face, no matter how much unbelievable, it was sincere. And he didn't have to resign from Belle to accomplish his goal. She could help him. They could find Bae together, and the boy would have loved her, just like he did.

If he was any braver, he would confess his feeling right now. He would say 'I love you', washing away all the doubts she could have, especially after his long silence.  
>But he wasn't brave. Not enough to tell her how he felt, not so fast, not right now. He still could barely embrace everything what had happened in last hours.<br>He couldn't tell her just yet, but instead, he could show her.

With one swift move he closed the distance, capturing her lips and conveying his feelings, his love, into her. She gasped in surprise when he attacked her mouth and pushed her back at the bed, but quickly it changed into little moans of pleasure, and her arms hugged him, holding him close.

It was his chance, he realized. After years of solitude, and having his heart broken twice, now he met someone right. Someone good, someone who really loved him, and who with her light could balance his darkness. Now he finally had a chance to be happy again, at least partially. And when they'll find his boy, he will finally have the family he always craved, and he will be fully happy then, they all will.

He only had to do the brave thing, and stop pushing all the good away. Belle once told him 'do the brave thing and bravery will follow', and he should heed her words.  
>He will start from confessing his feeling, from telling her that he loves her too and that he always will.<p>

She tore his shirt open with a little chuckle, and as he stared down at her, she looked at him with a mischief in her eyes, biting her lip endearingly.  
>He could try to be brave a little bit later, he decided, as he bent down to get that sweet rosy lip between his own teeth.<p> 


End file.
